You ain't got enough stamps in your passport to fuck with young H-OInternational,Show y'all young boys how to do this thing

The maturation of Jay-Z, ZCheck me out

30's the new twenty, nigga I'm so hot stillBetter broad, better automobileBet a yard, nah, bet a hundred millThen by the songs end, I probably start another trendI know everything you wan doI did all that by the age of twenty-oneBy twenty-two I had that brand new Ack CoupeI guess you can say that my legend just begunI'm young enough to know the right car to buy Yet grown enough not to put rims on itI got that six-deuce with curtains so you can't see me And I didn't even have to put tints on itI don't got the bright watch, I got the right watchI don't buy out the bar, I bought the night spotI got the right stockI got stockbrokers that's movin' it like white topsI know you like fuck this is child abuseCall diapers, I might just be gettin' nicerThem young boys ain't ready for real30's the new twenty, nigga I'm so hot still

[Chorus]I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuckBad boy, now I'm all grown upI use to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truckBad boy, now I'm all grown upI use to play the block like that (like that)I use to carry knots like that (like that)Now I got black cards, good credit and suchBad boy, 'cause I'm all grown up

30's the new twenty, nigga, I'm on fire stillThese young boys is like a fire drills (uh)False alarms (uh)Next don? (nah)He got (on)To the next one (young)I'm still here (yeah)Still here like Mike, gotta stop playin' with these children's (yeah)I'm a bully with the bucksDon't let the patten leather shoes fool you, youngin'I got the fully in the tuxThat was my past, now I'm so grown upI don't got one gun army, got a slum armyTo hire a gun army, get you spun like laundryAnd I'll be somewhere under palm trees calmlyListen to R and B when we get the call he'sNo longer wit' us, fire your babysittersYou lil' fucks fall back for real30's the new twenty, niggaI'm so hot still

[Chorus]

Y'all roll blunts, I smoke Cubans all dayY'all youngin's chase, I'm Patron, and it's GreyI like South Beach, but I'm in Saint TropezY'all drink Dom but not Rose (hey)Your chick shop in the mallMy chick burnin' down Berdolph'sComin' back with Birken BagsYour chick is like what type of purse is that?I'm from the era where niggas don't snitchYou from the era where snitchin' is the shitI'm afraid of the future (why?)Y'all respect the one who got shotI respect the shooterY'all go to parties to ice grillI go to parties to party with nice girlsYou young boys gotta chill30's the new twenty, niggaI'm so hot still